


A Cold Day

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Public Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-12
Updated: 2008-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A chance meeting with Pansy Parkinson turns out slightly better than Ron thought possible.





	A Cold Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

**_Part One – Fancy Meeting You Here_**  

“Shut up and kiss me already, Weasley.”

Ron glared at her only seconds before doing as she asked, all the while wondering why – _how_ – it was that he’d ended up with his tongue in Pansy Parkinson’s mouth and her hands sliding down the front of his trousers.

 

Things had been going from bad to worse lately, what with Hermione deciding that they needed to take a ‘break,’ going on with some nonsense about how they’d really only dated one other person and needed to make sure they were ‘meant to be,’ and then Harry announcing that he and Ginny were getting married, which also meant that Ron was flat-hunting.

 

It was no wonder that he’d ended up at the Hog’s Head, drowning his sorrows in a bottle – or three – of Firewhisky.  

 

And he’d hoped to finish them off and somehow manage to Apparate himself home without splinching.  But somewhere near the top of the second bottle, she’d arrived and all of his plans had unraveled.

 

He’d been somewhat aware of her arrival almost half an hour earlier.  Hell, he’d have to have been _dead_ not to have been aware of her arrival.  Parkinson might be a royal bitch, but she had a first class set of tits and legs that seemed never to end.  And Ron had never admitted it to anyone, even Harry, but more than once he’d imagined what it would be like to have those long, shapely legs of hers wrapped around his waist or over his shoulders.

 

“Well, well,” she drawled condescendingly, coming to sit on the barstool next to him, “why am I not surprised to see you here, Weasley?”

 

He looked at her scathingly out of the corner of his eye.  “Wouldn’t’ve come if I knew you’d be here, Parkinson.”

 

“Ooh, nice attitude,” she retorted sarcastically.  “I thought one of the heroes of the Wizarding World would be more inviting.”

 

“If you were someone I wanted to see, perhaps I would be.”

 

Pansy huffed and finally turned to face the barkeep.  “What he’s having,” she ordered, gesturing to Ron at her left before turning back to him angrily.  “You don’t have to be such a fucking prick about it, you know.”

 

“Wha-?  You started it.”  Ron threw back a shot of the whisky, then glared at her.  “Either shut up and drink or go away, Parkinson.  I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.”  

 

“What the fuck’s up your arse?  You’re never this hateful at the Ministry.”

 

“I _have_ to be cordial at the Ministry.”

 

“Fine!” she exclaimed, slamming her empty glass on the bar.  “Forgive me for giving a shit!”

 

She threw a handful of galleons on the bar before hopping off the barstool with a huff and turning to leave, only to be thwarted by his arm grabbing hers.  She attempted to wrench it away but was unable to shake his grip.  “Let me go,” she hissed, pulling again but finding herself still unsuccessful.  

 

He let go of her arm and watched as she stomped away, surprised when she didn’t exit through the front door, but instead, took off down a dark corridor off to the side of the far end of the bar.

 

Ron didn’t allow himself to think twice as he took another large shot and got up, following the path that Parkinson had taken, running into someone coming out of the women’s loo.

 

“Watch it, arsehole – oh, it’s you!” she groaned, smoothing down the front of her blouse, the movements just under her tits causing Ron’s gaze to linger upon them, and he imagined how it would be to tear open that tight blouse and nibble her spectacular tits through her bra … if she was wearing one.

 

“Parkinson,” he muttered, once again grabbing her arm as he pressed her back against the wall.  “Sorry I was an arse.”

 

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply when his lower body met hers.  “You’ve always been an arse, Weasley,” she murmured.  “Good thing you have such a lovely one.”

 

Ron’s eyes widened when Parkinson’s hands slid inside the back of his trousers and grabbed his arse hard, her nails digging into his flesh.

 

“Parkinson …”

 

“Shut up and kiss me already, Weasley.”

**_Part Two – Interlude_**   

When he’d first followed her into the dark hallway, Ron hadn’t really known why or what he’d been expecting to happen, but he’d be lying if he said that _this_ wasn’t bloody brilliant – Parkinson’s fingernails carving ten crescents into his arse and her tongue stroking his so demandingly.  He’d always thought she had the sharpest tongue of any woman he knew and he’d never much enjoyed being on the receiving end of her barbs, but bloody fucking hell, being on the receiving end of this tongue-lashing did nothing but make him want more. 

Without breaking their kiss, he pushed open the door to the women’s loo just to his right and guided her backwards through it, slamming it shut with his foot before backing her up against the wall between the sink and one of the stalls.  His hands ran over her hips and up her sides before he cupped her tits through her shirt and he grew even harder to have his suspicions confirmed that she was not, in fact, wearing a bra.

 

He tore his lips from hers, his teeth immediately digging into her shoulder as his fingers worked the buttons of her blouse, exposing the roundest, most perfect breasts he’d ever seen, including those in his brothers’ old _Wanton Witch_ magazines. 

 

“They’re spectacular, aren’t they?” she whispered into his ear before simultaneously biting down on his earlobe and groaning loudly when his mouth latched onto one rock hard nipple.  Ron didn’t reply, although he reckoned that the attention he was lavishing on them should undoubtedly answer her remark that yes, her tits were fucking fabulous.  And if the sounds issuing from her lips were any indication, she was receiving that message loud and clear.

 

She writhed against the wall, digging her fingernails into his head as she ran her hands through his hair and pressed his head against her chest, urging him not to stop, but when he pressed them together and his teeth grazed both of her large nipples at once, she roughly pushed his head back.

 

He started to speak, only to be quieted by her “Shut up,” as she grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, up against the door.

 

She thrust her tongue into his mouth once more before dropping to her knees and looking up at him with a wicked smirk on her face as her fingers deftly unfastened his trousers and pushed them down over his hips.

 

Ron watched as Parkinson’s tongue licked his cock languidly, starting at the base and moving up the length before circling the tip once or twice then moving back down and repeating the process, and he pondered how it was that he’d gone his entire life so far without having had anything quite like it before, the fact that she kept her eyes locked on his the entire time and seemed intent on taking him all the way making it even hotter.  

 

The pace she’d set was grueling, in the best possible way, and he was fully prepared for it to continue in that vein when she pulled back all the way, gave him one of the most conceited grins he’d ever seen, then proceeded to grab hold of his hips and quickly slid her lips around his cock, effectively swallowing him whole, sucking hard as she did.  Ron groaned, a guttural sound that he didn’t think he’d ever made before, and when she did it again, he thought he might explode right then and there.  

 

He thrust his hips as best he could seeing as she was holding them tightly in order to control the way in which she was fucking him with her mouth, and his hands instinctively moved to her head, a gesture that she seemed to welcome based upon the vibrations he felt around his cock and the way in which she sped up her movements.

 

It wasn’t long before she had him on the edge, when she reached over and massaged his balls, he lost the battle and came hard, his cock buried deep in her throat.  But rather then pull back, she continued to suck, prolonging his orgasm with her mouth and teeth and lips and tongue wrapped around him, releasing it only after he’d nearly collapsed against the door and it was clear that she’d taken him all the way.

 

He watched as she stood and licked her lips wantonly, and as he stood there, his trousers still at his ankles, it occurred to him very briefly that he need never question where the term ‘man-eater’ had been derived.

 

“Fuck, Parkinson,” he murmured, leaning his head back against the door heavily.

 

“I do believe that’s the most intelligent thing to ever come out of your mouth, Weasley,” she said snidely, running her hands under his shirt. 

 

He gave her a scathing look as he pushed her hands away and pulled up his trousers.  “What about ‘fuck off’ then?  Does that rate better?”

 

“No.  Just plain fucking better suits my purposes.”  She licked this side of his neck and whispered in his ear, “And from that preview, it suits yours as well.”

 

He turned his head and caught her in another bruising kiss, his hands clutching her arse through her skirt.

 

“I don’t like you,” he said roughly when they broke apart, his teeth grazing over the tender skin of her neck, causing her to whimper.

 

“And I abhor you,” she retorted, even as she pressed her still bare tits against his chest and ground her crotch against his, “so we’re in agreement.”  She pulled back and fixed him with a burning gaze.  “Now take me home and fuck me, Weasley.”

 

Ron needed no further invitation as he held her waist tightly and they Apparated away.

**_Part Three – A Cold Day_**   

They arrived in the precise place Ron planned, just inside the open door to his bedroom, which he promptly closed by forcing Pansy’s back against it, his hands clutching tightly to her arse, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, their mouths joined in yet another bruising kiss.  With her wedged between the closed door and his body, he easily disposed of her blouse and broke their kiss only to close his mouth over one taut nipple.

“Where the hell are we?” Parkinson asked haughtily even as she moaned in obvious pleasure from the dual stimulation from his tongue tweaking her nipple and his erection grinding against her.

 

“My flat,” Ron answered, glancing up at her from his vantage point between her tits.  

 

“Merlin, Weasley,” she huffed, “can’t you do anything right?  I didn’t mean for you to bring me _here_.”  

 

Her breath caught when his mouth latched onto the other nipple and his fingers roughly rolled the first between his fingers.  “Beggars can’t be choosers, Parkinson,” he growled, gripping the undersides of her thighs and turning towards his bed.

 

Her fingernails dug into his biceps and she clenched her legs even tighter around his waist.  “You must be bloody mental, Weasley.  It will be a cold day in hell before I beg you for anything.”

 

They crashed to his bed and Ron tugged his shirt over his head, chuckling sardonically, and Pansy fixed him with an irate gaze.  “What the fuck’s so funny?”

 

Ron still didn’t answer.  Instead, he tore her knickers down her legs and ran his tongue up the inside of her thigh, still chuckling as he began teasing her, licking everywhere else but where he knew she wanted him to.

 

“Stop it,” she said angrily, even as she arched her back, clearly urging him to proceed.  “Fucking stop it.”

 

Ron chuckled one last time before his tongue swept over her clit, and he heard her curse when he buried his fingers inside her and began pumping them in and out of her.  She grabbed his head and held him there, moving her hips in time with his tongue and fingers, and it was mere moments before her legs tightened around his head and she came.

 

She tugged at his hair, and he slowly licked his way up her body, pulling off his trousers with one hand as he did, running his tongue along the shell of her ear before easily thrusting his cock inside of her.

 

“Still want me to stop?” he whispered, his own breathing somewhat labored as he began pumping into her.

 

“No, damn you,” she hissed.  “Don’t you dare stop now.”

 

His next chuckle only served to infuriate her more, and she cut him off by shoving her tongue back into his mouth, her nails once again digging deeply into his arse and up his back, as her hips rose to meet his again and again.  Ron tore his mouth from hers and shifted until he was on his knees, holding the back of her calves up to his chest, pumping into her as hard as he could, every ‘fuck yes’ and ‘harder’ and ‘god, don’t stop’ driving him toward the brink.

 

He groaned aloud when she reached up and squeezed her tits together, his eyes watching as she ran her nails over those hard, luscious nipples.  He was already close when his gaze returned to her face, but then she licked her lips, wearing that ‘fuck me’ look in her eyes, and she tightened around him, screaming, “Merlin, Weasley!” at the top of her lungs, and he was gone.  With a growl, he thrust deeply into her one last time and came hard, his hands now tightly gripping her thighs, keeping her from moving until he was fully spent.

 

Ron collapsed onto his back as he caught his breath.  He glanced to his side where Parkinson was lying on her back as well.  Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and her tits were swaying as she fought to catch her own breath.  The fingers of one hand swept her hair back from her forehead as those of her other lightly ran over her neck.  

 

They laid there in silence for a moment before Ron chuckled mockingly.  “What was that about it being a cold day in hell, Parkinson?”

 

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, her jaw fixed in anger, and he thought he had bested her until she suddenly flipped over and was staring up at him with a contemptuous look from between his legs.  “Then I suppose I’ll see you there,” she said derisively, taking his half-hard cock back between her lips, teasingly running her tongue up and down the length before sitting astride him and sheathing his cock once more into her wetness.

 

And as he gripped her hips and watched her stroke her tits and throw her hair back as she bounced over him, fucking him even harder than before, Ron decided that maybe hell wouldn’t be entirely intolerable after all.

  _-end-_   

 


End file.
